


Joke's on Me

by Ferrofluid



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 03:59:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12225315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ferrofluid/pseuds/Ferrofluid
Summary: A vignette centered on Spike during a scene in "Beneath You."





	Joke's on Me

The make-shift weapon in Spike's hand feels weighty, practiced.  
Familiar, like the bravado in his step, and a goal in mind that'll beat back the ever-present nagging at the back of his mind - a reminder on repeat, a chorus -  
  
_Monster, monster, monster -_  
  
The Sluggoth demon bursts from the ground again, nearly missing Buffy for a second time, a great nasty worm-like thing that's all slime and jagged, gnashing teeth.  
Not human, not sentient, not bloody fucking complicated, which is good, because if he doesn't keep moving -  
  
"You've had your turn, luv," He boasts for the benefit of his ex-honey - convincing, of course, has to be - and swings the weapon at the beast. It connects with a satisfying _clunk_.  
"Leave the real violence to the demons, yeah?"  
  
He poises backwards, flips the pipe like a spear, jagged end towards the enemy. Simple stuff.  
  
"That's right!" He growls, "Big Bad's back, and look for a little **DEATH**!"  
On that last word he lunges forward, and there's a split second of alarm bells in his mind before he's spearing the thing through the... Shoulder?  
Can't be. Thing was a giant worm. Was.  
Was.  
  
Oh.  
_Oh._  
Bloody hell.  
  
It's not much that makes it through his mind before the pain does, debilitating, searing-hot and still less than he deserves, because he's just speared someone through the shoulder.  
  
Not a demon. A man.  
  
Spike's agony-wracked scream syncs absurdly with the shout of the man he's impaled for a second before he can right himself properly. There's a few more sharp seconds where he's still not entirely sure if this is all _real_ , and the man he's stuck a hole through with a piece of steel bar stares back at him with a mirrored expression of shock.  
  
Sorry. _Sorry. I'm sorry, I_ -  
  
"Sorry," Spike hears himself saying, for whatever bloody good that's ever going to do, it's not like he's accidentally bumped into him while they were walking down the sidewalk and knocked a coffee from his hands.  
  
Spike rears back and plucks the weapon out, leaving a circular hole behind. Not 'neat,' exactly, but holes like that never really were unless you've used something a little more surgically sharp, and who would know about that sort of thing better than him?  
No one currently standing there, Spike thinks, because now the Sluggoth is gone... and the only blood-thirsty demon left standing in the alleyway is him.


End file.
